23 Ways To Die
by DoctorAuthor
Summary: Or: How Greg House Won The Hunger Games. Greg House is like Sherlock Holmes: He sees everything. When his name is chosen as the male tribute to represent District 4 for the 32nd Annual Hunger Games, he sees every death clearer than everyone who is watching. No pairings or slash. Most chapters are short. House's POV. Blood and gore.
1. Murder

I stand on my metal plate in the clearing, watching the timer above the Cornucopia.

20. 19. 18. 17.

I look over at the other tributes. Ginger, the female tribute from my district, catches my eye and shakes her head at me. I know what she means. It would be suicide to try to grab something near the center. I will surely be killed.

I spot a backpack near me that is closer to the forest. I keep my eye on that and wait for the buzzer.

12. 11. 10. 9. 8.

I see a boy with glasses eyeing the backpack as well. I watch him, wanting to send a threatening glance at him to tell him to stay away, because he looks about fourteen and is thin, small. I don't think I can kill him, but I can make myself look like I will. He doesn't look at me.

3. 2. 1.

There is a loud ring in my ears and I leap onto the grass and nearly trip, but keep going, my legs moving so quickly that the rest of me can barely keep up. I glance around, and all I see is death.

Twelve deaths, right in front of my eyes. I see everything.

1: I see a girl get her throat slit.

2: I watch as a boy's head is bashed in.

3: A twelve-year-old boy is thrown against the Cornucopia and I see his head collide with it, hard. He falls to the ground and doesn't get up.

4: A girl is grabbed by her long hair and decapitated.

5: A boy is throttled by a Career.

6: A girl has broken another's neck.

7: A boy is taken by the hair and has a hand clamping shut his nose and mouth.

8: A boy is shot down by an arrow as he tries to make an escape to the woods.

9: A Career crushes a girl with a heavy box inside the Cornucopia.

10: A boy has a sword sticking through the other side of his stomach.

11: A boy has a dagger sticking out of his skull.

12: I grab the backpack, only for an eighteen-year-old girl take it at the same time. I tug it away from her, but she holds fast. Suddenly she screams and slumps over. There is an arrow in her back.

I take no time in finding out who killed her. I sling the backpack on and run into the woods, away from the murders.


	2. Drowning

12 tributes dead already. I don't want to think about it as I trudge along, looking for water. I am exhausted from the day before, and from sleeping in a tree all night with only a rope from my backpack to hold me up. My back hurts and my throat is dry.

And, even though I know there are cameras everywhere, I feel like someone is watching me.

My lips are dry. I need to find water. I found a full bush of berries and made them a dinner and breakfast, then preserved more of them in my backpack. Their bitter taste doesn't help to quench my thirst.

I sit down and lean against the tree, closing my eyes for a moment. The feeling is back. Someone is watching me.

I open my eyes and look around. There is no one there. No one hiding behind a tree or a bush. I can't hear anyone breathing.

I sigh and get an idea. I take several berries from my backpack and place them on the ground in a pile. I lean back and feign sleep. I wait.

No one comes. I frown. It's all in my imagination. The dehydration has made me crazy already. Great.

I am debating on whether to really go to sleep or not when I hear splashing and shouting.

Splashing.

I jump up, abandoning the berries, and follow the noise. Splashing. That means water. I go to my left, hoping that there are no Careers there having a practice fight on what to do when they saw me.

I peer through some tree branches to see a river. It is full and slow. Plenty of water.

There are two people in the middle, fighting each other to the death. A boy with a creepy smile and a spear, and a girl my age with black hair and two daggers.

The boy towers over the girl. She grits her teeth as he pushes his spear against her daggers, and it seems as if he has the upper hand. At the last minute, the girl gets her foot out of the water and kicks him in the chest. He stumbles back and drops the spear in the water, and she punches his stomach, grabs the hair on the back of his head, and forces him under the water. She holds him there until he goes limp. A cannon sounds and she lets him go.

She picks up the spear and examines it. To my surprise, she turns to my hiding spot. "You want this?"

I see no reason to stay in hiding, and come out. "You gonna kill me?"

She looks at me and shakes her head. "Nah." She carefully tosses the spear at my feet. "Which district are you from?"

"Four," I say, picking up the spear. It is light and easy to hold and run with.

She smiles. "So that spear will be good. Do you spear fish in Four?"

I nod. "I've done it a few times. Do you usually kill people during your illegal training in District 2?"

She pales. "How do you know I'm from District 2?"

I nod at her arms. "You're strong and skilled. No other girl would have been able to hold a boy that big under the water. That means you have to be a Career. You're confident. And you have soot under your nails. That means you work in your District, probably a blacksmith."

Lisa stares at me before smiling. "You're good. I'm a blacksmith's niece. I usually work for him and get payed. But I didn't want you to know. Then you wouldn't trust me."

The girl climbs out of the water, her clothes now hugging her body. "I'm Lisa," she says. I stare at her, hoping to look intimidating like my father. I imitate the way he stares at me when I have done something wrong. "Are you going to kill me or not?" I don't care either way. I just want to die quickly if I have to.

Lisa stares at me like I am crazy. "I said I wasn't going to. You look like a good ally." She holds out her hand. "I saw running. You were pretty fast. And would I give you a weapon if I wanted to kill you?"

I stare at her and finally take her hand. She steps to the side. "Take some water. You look thirsty."

I walk forward and fill up my water bottle. Lisa doesn't stab me in the back or push me in or decapitate me. I drink my full and let my water bottle replenish.

Lisa becomes my ally. We walk together to retrieve my backpack next to the tree. The berries are gone.


	3. Exsanguination

Lisa and I form an alliance and stay hidden in the trees. She teaches me to climb and suggests that I teach her to fish. I don't really trust her, because she is from District 2, the most loyal to the Capitol and the most brutal. I don't teach her.

One day, while collecting water, we are discovered by a boy from District 3. He must be a scout for the Career alliance, because he shoots an arrow at my head and calls out behind him.

I dodge the arrow and start to run, grabbing my backpack and Lisa's shirt. I hear shouts in the background but I ignore them.

Lisa stops me suddenly. "I'll climb a tree. You run. I'll never keep up with you." I nod and start to run again, so quickly that I am in a trance and I don't notice myself dodging obstacles like fallen tree branches and bushes.

I stop when I don't hear anything. No one is behind me, no one is catching up to me. No one is watching me. I am alone.

I begin to walk back. The Careers should be gone by now. I don't hear anything, save for the crunching of nature under my feet.

Halfway back, I find it.

It is the Career scout, his bow and arrows thrown to the side. They lie next to a tree several meters away.

The scout has his throat slit and a sword impaled in his stomach. His bleeding is profuse; he is lying in a puddle of the sticky liquid and it is bubbling up from his mouth. He is still alive.

His eyes wander to me, and he flexes his weak fingers. His eyes beg for me to end his life and put him out of his misery.

He dies of blood loss before I can oblige.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short, but there really nothing else to be said. So House has a stalker! Who is it? Maybe you'll find out sooner than you think...or it will take several chapters so I can keep this weak plot going! For those of you who don't know, exsanguination (the title of the chapter) means the extreme loss of blood, usually resulting in death. So it's death by blood loss.


	4. Choking

I know that it was Lisa who killed the Career scout. Or helped, anyway. The slit in his throat wasn't deep enough to be a sword.

I decide that it was Lisa who slit his throat and a Career who stabbed him in the stomach. I trust her even less, but she knows how to find water and when to hide.

I am still being followed. The person who took my berries is still following me, but now they seem to be clumsier. I hear branches in trees rustle loudly from time to time, and branches snapping when neither Lisa or I have stepped on one. Lisa doesn't seem to notice, though.

I think about it. Lisa is from District 2. It's the District closest to the Capitol. They are known for illegally training for the Hunger Games and then volunteering. They are also known for forming an alliance with other Careers, usually from Districts 1 and 3. If Lisa is tricking me, and I am the only one that notices the spy that has been following me from day one, then I am sure to be killed and look like a fool.

I wonder who the spy is. Maybe they're part of the Career alliance that was chasing us the other day. Maybe Lisa knew that they were going to be there.

So then why did she let me run? Maybe because she didn't think I would be able to run fast enough. Or maybe she was hiding out in the tree, waiting for the right moment to peg me with a dagger.

I don't know for sure. Maybe I never will. Lisa and I are walking and I watch her out of the corner of my eye. There is a snap in the tree above us and a twig falls near me. Seconds later, some bark follows suit.

I glare at Lisa but I don't say anything. She doesn't notice me looking at her.

Suddenly, I hear more snapping the the tree above us. I stop and look up, curious. The branches are shaking almost violently and leaves tumble down onto my head. I hear struggling and then silence.

Someone falls out of the tree and on top of me. I don't make a sound as I open my eyes. They widen when they focus on the thing holding me down.

There is a dead body on top of me. I shove it off in a blind panic and sit up. I hear the boom of a cannon.

It is a girl. She has curly brown hair that is in a messy bun from her struggle in the tree and her eyes are open. She has no wounds, but I see purple bruises shaped like fingerprints around her neck. She has been choked to death.

I stand up and gaze at the tree. "There's someone up there," I say to Lisa. I aim my spear at the branch and throw it with deadly accuracy. I hear a THUNK as it hits something.

Lisa climbs the tree and I follow her. When I get to the top, all I see is my spear embedded in the tree bark and Lisa trying to pull it out.

I look down and see blood near where Lisa is sitting. I have hit someone, but they're gone now. I figure that they can't have gone far, but there's no way of knowing how well the person knows forests and wooded areas. Even injured, they could have some secret hole to crawl into and hide.

I have a feeling, though, that they aren't very far away.


	5. Bee Stings

Lisa and I find the river again and stay in a large tree that we won't fall out of if Lisa comes to sleep in my lap. It's obvious that she is flirting with me. Maybe it's just to make me trust her more. It just makes me more suspicious.

I wake up after our first night in the tree with Lisa still asleep in my lap. There is a buzzing in my ears. I frown and rub them. The buzzing only becomes louder.

That is when I notice that the noise is coming from above me. I look up.

Tracker jackers are scientifically enhanced wasps. When they are set on a target, they chase or 'track' them. Their stings are toxic and cause severe hallucinations, and, in extreme cases, death.

I am looking at a swarming teacher jacker nest right now. It is hanging directly above my head on a thin branch that shakes with the movement of the insects. I shake Lisa awake and whisper urgently in her ear.

"Lisa. Lisa, get up right now!" Her eyes flicker open and turns her head towards me. "What?"

"Don't look up. There is a tracker jacker nest directly above us, and the branch could break any moment. We need to go around the tree on the branches and get above it right now."

Lisa nods and I am shocked at how much she trusts me. Then again, she can probably hear the buzzing of the tracker jackers. I am untying the rope when an arrow whizzed past my ear. I gasp, and Lisa nearly falls out of the tree.

I look down. A girl with honey blonde hair is aiming another arrow at us. I get the rope untied and yell,"Move!" to Lisa. She jumps to the branch next to ours and an arrow hits the tree bark where she had been standing moments before. I follow Lisa. "Climb now, just get higher than the tracker jackers," I say. "I have an idea."

Lisa does what I say. She gets several branches higher than the nest. I tell her when I am next to her,"I need one of your daggers and your jacket. It's important."

The District 2 girl stares at me for a moment before pulling out one dagger and handing it to me. She takes her jacket off and gives that to me, too. "What are you doing?"

I zip my jacket and put her jacket over my own, but backwards, so I am protected more. I cover my hands with the sleeves of Lisa's jacket and tell her to zip it in the back, which she does. My neck, chin, and hands are protected. I hope that it's enough.

I turn to my ally. "Do you think you can hit her in the leg with yur other dagger from here?" Lisa eyes the girl with the notched bow and arrow, then nods. "Why?"

"When I tell you to, I need you to hit her in the leg with your dagger. I'm going to saw through the branch with the tracker jackers."

"Greg-" Lisa tries to say, but I interrupt her. "When I say!"

I climb down several branches. An arrow nearly hits me. I dodge it and look at the branch with the nest. It is thin and shaking. The girl with the arrows has moved towards me. Closer to the tracker jacker nest.

Perfect.

I start to saw the branch as quickly and smoothly as I can. I have my back pressed entirely against the trunk of the tree so the tracker jackers can't see me as well. I get halfway through quickly.

"Lisa, now!" I call. I see a blur of silver zoom across my vision and a shriek of pain. I turn to the nest and saw at the branch faster, harder.

One tracker jacker spots me and stings my hand. I gasp because it has gone right through my two jackets. My vision starts to go fuzzy.

Another sting. I see something purple in my vision.

That is when the branch lets out. I climb up quickly to Lisa and look down. The nest is broken on the ground and tracker jackers are swarming on the girl. Her screams reach my ears clearly.

When the swarm disperses, Lisa and I climb down. She reaches the ground and as I am about to climb down the trunk from the last branch, my vision swims and my body becomes numb.

I don't feel myself let go if the branch. I don't feel myself fall and hit the ground. The sounds of tracker jackers reverberates in my ears and I turn my head to the side and see every death of every person in the Hunger Games so far. I feel every stab, strangle, and cut. After I am being choked, my eyes correct themselves and I am staring at the bloated body of the girl, still clutching her bow and arrows.

The sound of a cannon joins the buzzing of tracker jackers right before I fall unconscious.

* * *

A/N: Shorter chapters mean sooner updates. *waggles eyebrows* So whoever thinks and is accusing me that I took this from The Hunger Games, the answer is, um, yes. Any person who read the book or saw the movie can tell that I, um, DIDN'T steal the scene. I'm sorry to those who are upset by my laziness. :(


	6. Falling

I wake up in a tree.

It is dark and there is something itchy on my hands. My eye flutter open and I look down to see leaves on my left hand. There is rope wrapped around my legs, keeping me from falling.

There is no one around. I turn my head and regret it, because it pounds. I wince and hold it. I remember the tracker jackers and the dead girl. Lisa must have healed me and carried me up here.

Someone climbs onto my thick branch and kneels in front of me. They wield two dagger, one in each hand. "Lisa?" I call. They don't answer.

Then I am being pushed against the tree with a dagger at my throat. "Shut up, Greg," Lisa hisses. "I have to break the alliance."

"Well, if that wasn't obvious already," I remark, glancing down at the weapon threatening to break the skin of my neck. "You were faking it the entire time."

Lisa almost looks regretful. "No. I really was your ally. But the Hunger Games needs to end, and I'm not gonna die. My family needs me."

So this is how it ends for me. Killed by Lisa, the female tribute from District 2. I never got to find out who had been following me, but at least I'm cared about enough to be killed.

"It was nice meeting you, Greg," Lisa says, and presses the knife tighter against my skin. I shut my eyes calmly, waiting for it to come.

It doesn't.

I hear an "Oof!" and then screaming. I open my eyes to find that Lisa is gone. I look over the edge of the branch just in time to see her collide with the ground. Her body is broken and sprawled out on the ground. She doesn't get up, and a cannon sounds.

I look back up to see someone new in front of me. It is too dark to see their face clearly. "Are you OK?" they ask. I nod and start to untie the rope keeping me from falling. From their figure and voice, I can tell that it's a boy my age, maybe a year younger.

The person climbs down from the tree and I follow, my hands shaky from the tracker jackers. I make it the grass without falling off and face the person.

"You pushed her off," I accuse. The boy shrugs. "I...I didn't really mean to, actually. I just wanted to help."

I snort. "'Help' is an understatement. She's dead." The stranger nods. "I know." He sounds ashamed. There is a silence as I realize that he has a right to.

"I, uh, I should leave you now," he says, and starts to walk off. That is when I notice he is limping.

_I aim my spear at the branch and throw it with deadly accuracy. I hear a THUNK as it hits something. Lisa climbs the tree and I follow her. When I get to the top, all I see is my spear embedded in the tree bark and Lisa trying to pull it out. I look down and see blood near where Lisa is sitting. I have hit someone, but they're gone now._

"You've been following me." He turns around. "You're the one who's been following me around. I hit you with my spear a few days ago. That means you choked that girl."

Even in the dark, I can tell that the boy is still abashed. "She was attacking me, I was just trying to push her away."

"Just like you 'pushed' Lisa?" I challenge, and gesture to her crumpled body lying several yards away.

"I didn't mean to. If I did, I would have killed you." That doesn't make much sense, because what if he wanted to be allies? He wouldn't have killed me then. I wave away the idea. "What do you want from me?"

"I was thirsty and I knew you were from District 4," he explains. "I thought you would have the best chance of finding a river." He must have watched the reaping, unlike me. I don't know what District he is from, but there is a good chance it's a Career district.

I step forward, unafraid, even though I don't know if the boy is telling the truth or is just crazy. "I'm Greg." In an act of bravery, I hold out my hand.

The boy hesitates before closing the gap between us and taking my hand. "I'm James."

I pull my hand back almost immediately. He's hot. Not attractive hot. Temperature hot.

I look up- or, down, really, because James is shorter than me- and finally see him. Chestnut hair, brown eyes- and pale. Thin. I look at his eyes again and see that they're foggy. His weight is entirely on his right side because of where I wounded his left leg. I bet I could wrap my entire hand around his wrist, or his waist, even. His pants are held up with rope and his clothes hang off him like rags.

"You're sick," I say. "I bet that leg wound got infected."

"I did everything so that it wouldn't," James assures, but I kneel down and roll up his pants. Sure enough, the wound on his thigh is infected and disgusting, but I'm not squeamish. I see herbs on it and around it, but it obviously hasn't helped. I am relieved, and surprised, to see that they are the correct plants for warding off infection.

"C'mon," I say,"you need to lie down somewhere safe." James stares at me for a long time before hesitantly limping towards me.

I take his arm to help him walk but he pulls away. "I can walk." After a few steps, he stumbles and nearly falls. I catch him, then sling his arm over my shoulders and help him walk. I can feel the heat of his skin through both of our clothes.

I find the river and follow it, hoping to discover someplace safe. James stops after about half an hour. "Greg," he pants, exhausted from hopping the entire time,"look."

I do, and see a cave across the river. I adjust my grip on James and find a shallow part in the water, then help him cross it. The current isn't strong, but James has his injured leg held up and is hopping on his right foot. On top of that, he is sick and exhausted.

We finally reach the other side and I peer in to make sure it is uninhabited. To our extreme luck, it is. It is even free of mutant animals and Careers.

I sit down next to James and we lean against the wall of the cave. His eyes are closed, and his labored breathing soon evens out. He's asleep.

I move away from him, uncomfortable with being so close to someone. I lean against the opposite side of the cave wall and am soon asleep, too.


	7. Burning

It's morning when I wake up. The first thing I see is a skinny, shivering sixteen-year-old boy leaning against the cave wall, very much asleep.

James is more ill than I thought. It had been several days for it to progress. It was serious now.

I stand up and walk over, then kneel down and touch his forehead. It practically burns my hand. "Dammit, James!" I cry. It's lucky that we're right next to a river. I can cool him off with water from my bottle.

I suddenly get an idea. I shake the boy awake. "James, James, wake up!" His eyes flutter open and he looks surprised. Surprised that I haven't killed him yet. "What?"

"Come on, I have an idea." I lift him up and help him walk to the river. I sit him down on a rock and frown. He looks pretty out of it, staring off into space. Oh, well. I guess it _will_make this easier.

I pull his shoes and socks off, then his pants and his shirt. I let him keep his underwear. I wouldn't do that to him on live TV. Once his shirt is off, he seems to come to his senses and looks down.

"_Ah_! Greg, where are my clothes?"

"Come on, we're going for a swim. It will bring your fever down." I put his arm across my shoulders and help him int the river where it's deepest.

We are up to our waists in water. I am from District 4, so I can swim very well if James decides to float away.

"OK," I instruct. "I'm going to count to three, and I'm going to put your head under. Ready?" James nods. "One, two, three!" James takes a deep breath and I push his head under.

After about 20 seconds, he tugs on my hands frantically, and I let him up. His eyes are wide and he gasps for air. "I- I thought you were going to drown me," James whispers.

I'm shocked, though I shouldn't be. I push a rebellious strand of wet hair away from his forehead. "Of course I wasn't," I say. "How could anyone possibly hurt you? You've got these...eyes." James sends me a strange stare.

I almost blush for saying more than I should have. James is nice, but, aside from that, he's just too innocent. Sure, he's killed two people, but that was when his life was in danger and when my own life was in danger. He's about sixteen years old.

I get him out of the water and let him dry off. I can't stop looking at how _skinny_he is. I know that it's because of his illness, but he hasn't been sick that long. What about his home?

"James, what district are you from?" I ask. He looks up from his shivering and says,"District 12. I live in the Seam."

Well, that explains it. James is from District 12. The poorest district. The coal district. The district with the most starving people and the most felonies committed, just to keep people from dying. It's no wonder he's so thin. And the Seam...I've never heard of it, but it sounds pretty poor. Like a slum. I remind myself to catch a big fish later today and give him the whole thing.

When James is dry, I help him get his clothes back on and his jacket, and then give him my own jacket because he's shivering. I help him limp back into the cave and lean him against the wall. He falls to sleep immediately. I make a fire so he'll be warm.

I take my spear to go catch a fish. I manage one fish and head back. When I reach the mouth of the cave, I hear scrabbling on the ground. Is James having a nightmare?

I jog inside and stop. There is a girl with blonde hair and a sword, holding James against the cave wall by his neck. He gasps and his feet scrabble against the floor.

"A-Allison-!" he gasps, and I can see him running out of energy fast. The girl is uncertain of what to do, I can see it. She hovers the sword over his chest, ready to kill him at any moment. Her hand is clasping his throat and cutting off a lot of his air.

I drop the things I am holding, march forward, and grab the wrist that is holding the sword. The blonde girl, Allison, James said, looks up in surprise and her grip on James's neck loosens.

My expression must be pretty hellish because Allison is terrified. James gasps in breaths of air, still being choked slightly. I see everything.

Allison's grip on James's throat. Loose. Her confidence. Low. Her expression. Terrified.

Perfect.

I tug hard on her wrist and stand her up, then push her back, away from James. I don't expect what comes next.

Allison stumbles back and trips over the firewood. She lands in the fire.

The cave is filled with high-pitched screams as Allison is engulfed in flames. She runs out of the cave to the river. The screams soon stop. There is the sound of a cannon.

I turn to James. "Are you OK?" He takes deep breaths, but nods. "Y-yeah. Thanks for that. I didn't think Allison would- of all people..."

"She's from your district." I don't ask it. James nods. "Yeah, she's the baker's daughter. She'd never harm a fly. She didn't have to beg for food to feed her family. I didn't think she would try to kill me..."

I nod and notice James's constant shivering. I look through our things and find a blanket. I bundle him up in it and prod the fire, blowing on it to make it warmer.

I look at James and wonder if I should kill him. Then I wonder if I _can_ kill him. That question stays in my mind all night.

* * *

For those of you who know your House characters, yes, that was Cameron. Now try to guess who I make the bloodthirsty Career! 5 more people to kill off. **WARNING: FUTURE CHAPTERS MAY MAKE YOU VERY SAD.**

**Happy Hunger Games!  
**


	8. Disease

A/N: So this is probably the saddest chapter in this story...that nobody actually reads. Since everyone hates this story anyway, and since I have at least one person die every chapter (cause this is the freaking Hunger Games) then the quote from this chapter I'm about to say next shouldn't surprise you.

**READ THIS NOW! **Whenever I read or write something, I always imagine them doing everything in my head. I have specific pictures of the characters and places in my head and since I play about five instruments, I like to play appropriate music for the scene. If you're the same way or just want to try it, go to here watch?v=XmjaWrD0mdM and click play when you get to '**I stop when I hear the cannon.' **Trust me, it's worth it.

ONTO THE STORY!

* * *

I place the damp rag on James's forehead. He is still asleep and doesn't stir. His skin is hot and his shallow breathing, along with his constant shivering, is the only thing that tells me he is still alive.

I sigh. Why am I so worried? He's just another tribute. He's not even from District 4. James is from District 12, the poorest district, with the most prostitutes and the most dead people in the street. The coal district. The easiest district to kill.

So why can't I kill James?

I am roused from my thoughts when I hear a horrible, throaty cough. I turn around to see James, now awake (or most of the way) with his head turned to the side and those awful sounds coming from his mouth.

I grab the water bottle and sit next to him where he leans against the cave wall. "Here." I open the bottle and put it to his chapped lips. He drinks it greedily, and I let him. Suddenly, he coughs again and the water in his mouth flies out in a fountain. I pale when I see that the water is red.

James continues to cough, this time with blood expelling out of his mouth. He is in a fit, and I, for once, am not sure what to do. I rub his back and unzip his jacket for it not to be so strict around his throat.

When it finally ends, I wipe the blood from around James's mouth and give him more water. He closes his eyes, and at first I think he is asleep until he speaks.

"Greg?" he rasps. "Yeah, I'm here," I respond. James keeps his eyes closed, but I know that he is still awake. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"

I wonder what to tell him. I don't want to tell him yes.

Why?

And then I realize. It's because I care for him. James is a friend. I could never kill him, even if I had to. The Hunger Games has given me a friend.

A friend who is going to die.

I shake my head. "No. You're going to live. I'm going to find a way. Any way. But you won't die."

He doesn't respond. I see his face is still tense, though, so I stay. I briefly wonder if he can tell I am lying.

"I promised my brother," James says at last,"that I would win. I told him that I would do anything...and everything...just to come home to him."

I swallow. Is James going to kill me? Some friends I make.

I see how pained the teenager is. "I promised him. I've never broken a promise before. I promised him that he wouldn't become a tribute. And his- his name was chosen...so I volunteered..."

I hadn't watched the reaping. If I am destined to live through the Hunger Games, I will remind myself to watch the reaping.

I will never watch the reaping.

"And I always keep my promises," the sick teenager continues,"but...I- I have to break it this time. I haven't tried to kill anyone, I've just ran and ran. I followed you. I killed two people. I didn't mean to. And now I can't do anything because I'm so sick, and I- I just can't kill you, Greg!"

I let out a breath of air. I feel so relieved that James is not a bloodthirsty murderer that I hadn't believed him to be. Not like the Careers. Not like Lisa.

"I'm sorry, Danny," James says softly. "I can't do it. I've tried to protect you, to keep you and Mom fed. I traded equally, doing my best to give you nothing rotten or moldy. We were so poor after dad died. I needed money badly. And I was a-" he faked a smile. "I was a beggar for a while, actually. Standing in the mud in the middle of the streets, wearing rags while my family starved. I- I almost agreed to be..." he swallowed and he looked ashamed, his smile vanishing. "I almost agreed to become a prostitute once. But I healed someone's broken bone and I got payed."

James laughs suddenly. It is bitter and empty. I hate it. "Now I have to die," he insists,"because if I'm the victor and I go back, people will look at me like I'm some disgusting bug. Not a lot of people actually do those things, even in the Seam."

I shake my head again. "No, no, you'll live, I promise, and you can move to District 4 and learn to fish. You can live with Max and Gem, and they'll take good care of you."

"Is it sunny in District 4?" James asks, his eyes closed and his head tilted back against the wall of the cave.

"Everyday," I assure.

"Is the water cool? Do the people like boating?"

I have never liked the water, but I say for James,"The water is wonderful, just the right temperature every day. And everyone loves fishing, and boating, they practically live on the water."

James sighs. "I've always wanted to live in District 4. I love the water..." I look up and notice just how horrid he looks, his features gaunt. He is really sick.

Suddenly, I hear the Capitol theme. We look to the mouth of the cave. "Happy Hunger Games, remaining tributes," the voice says. "We are aware that you are all desperately in need of something, whether it be food, water, weapons. Medicine. We have decided to help you out. Tomorrow, starting at 8 am, you will find what you need at the Cornucopia during the Feast. May the odds be ever in your favor."

"James!" I cry. "You will live! I'll get your medicine tomorrow!" I am jubilant. I have never been jubilant before. I turn to him, a grin on my face, my arms outstretched, but then I see him staring at me...like that.

"What?" I ask, absolutely confused, dropping my arms and my smile. "Greg," James whispers, looking like he wants to say something important, some huge spoiler, but then decides against it. He closes his eyes and opens them again. "You're my best friend."

I am suspicious but happy at his words. I'm not sure what to say, so I sit down next to him and put an arm around his narrow, shaking shoulders. I smile. "You're my best friend, too." I then deadpan,"You're also my only friend. But, it's the thought that counts, huh, Jimmy?"

Finally, James smiles a true smile that reaches his sunken brown eyes. He laughs and so do I, but it proves too straining for his condition and he ends up leaning his back against my chest and chuckling. I know that he is happy, now that we have confirmed our friendship and he knows that I will not try to kill him. Now that he knows that someone actually cares for him, and deeply.

James falls asleep leaning against me, and I fall asleep, to, too happy and tired to do anything else.

I wake in the morning. James is still leaning against me. His skin is burning hot, and I gently take his shoulders to move him.

"Greg."

I stop moving now that James is awake. His voice is cracked and weak, and he doesn't look at me, but at the opposite wall of the cave. I swallow at how vulnerable he sounds.

"Yes?"

His entire body trembles, especially his hands, and he reaches one up to take one of mine which rest on his narrow shoulders. I don't pull away from his clamminess.

"Thank you so much," he says quietly, because he isn't strong enough to make his voice louder,"for being my friend." He squeezes his eyes shut. "Thank you."

I squeeze his hand, wanting to stay with him to make sure that he'll be OK, but I can't if I want to make sure that he'll stay. The sun is up and I'm sure that it's about 8 o'clock now.

I brush his hair from his eyes and say goodbye. James squeezes my hand one last time and lets me go.

I venture from the cave into the woods and soon start to run, my long legs flying across the dirt ground covered in crunchy leaves and brittle branches that snap as soon as you set a toe on the end of them.

I'm like a rabbit, my father would say, quick and jumpy and soon to flee at the sight of danger, which was his way of calling me a coward for trying to run when he came stomping forward to drag me off to an ice bath or with his hand raised. He said this in public so no one would know that I was running from the beatings. In my mind, I would always compare him to a furious stampede of carnivorous animals.

I'm very fast. I'm more like the wind, barely making a sound, going faster than anyone could hope to. One moment right next to your ear, the next moment ruffling the tops of the highest trees.

I stop close to the clearing, barely out of breath, and walk forward. I peer out from a bush and see four bags, each one labeled in bold numbers the names of the Districts.

I watch as Remy, the girl from my District, sprints across the clearing from the opposite side and snatches the bag that says 4 on it. The boy with glasses runs up to her, the bag labeled 5 in his hand, and he threatens her with a sword.

Remy takes out a knife and kills him, then disappears into the woods.

I wait to see if anyone else runs forward. When no one does, I take a deep breath and run as fast as I can, feeling myself become a blur. I reach out and grab the bag marked 12, ready to run back the way I came, but a striking pain hits my arm and I gasp, dropping the bag.

I look up, broken from my trance to see the blonde boy, Robert, from Lisa's district. Besides James and me, he is the only boy left.

He is holding the bag with his district number on it. Dried blood is spread across the side of his head, going into his hair. He has a dagger embedded in my forearm.

"You can run pretty fast," he hisses. "But I've got the upper hand now. No trees to climb, nothing to hide behind. I don't see a weapon on you." I let out several pained noises but otherwise am solid.

I see everything. His hand holding the bag. Occupied. His hand gripping the dagger in my arm tightly. Too tightly. His eyes on my face and just my face. His breathing. Labored.

Perfect.

First, I grab the dagger with my now-free hand. I pull it out of my forearm, letting out a cry, but Robert is taken by surprise and that is what I need. I kick him in the chest like I remember Lisa doing when we first met, and he falls back. I take the advantage to grab the bag and run.

I fly into the woods, ignoring the weapon that flies past me, ignoring the threats and screams, ignoring the blood that is running down my arm. I concentrate only on running and keeping a tight grip on the bag with James's medicine in it.

I run faster when I think of James, lying in the the musty cave, sicker than I have ever seen anyone before. My chest burns and I can't run anymore, but I keep running anyway.

I stop when I hear the cannon.

I am frozen, save for the shaking of my legs and my harsh breathing. Someone has died.

It's someone at the Cornucopia, I think to myself, Someone else has died at the Cornucopia. That isn't important right now. James is.

I think of James and I see that look. That look that says that I should know something obvious that I don't. He looks so...

The correct word crosses my mind and it all fits together.

I start to run again, faster, faster, faster, unconsciously dodging trees and moving around bushes and over fallen branches, more afraid than I have ever been in my life.

Afraid. I am so afraid.

I reach the cave and I run inside. "James? James! I'm back, I've got-" I cut myself off, stopping everything, my words, my movements, everything. I stare at the teenager leaning against the wall of the cave. His skin is purely white, his eyes are closed. He doesn't move. He doesn't even shiver.

His chest is still.

I feel my heart constrict with an icy hand of grief as the world becomes silent. I fall to my knees where I stand near the mouth of the cave.

I am too late.

Then somehow I am in front of him and I call his name. All the fear that had been consuming me before blossoms into more vivid emotions, dozens of them that I can't control.

I shake his shoulders and his body bobs limply in my tight grip that should hurt, but it doesn't, but it should, and my mind is a jumbled mess because I can't comprehend anything that is happening.

I feel my mouth moving but I don't hear anything. James can't hear me either, or feel me or see me.

For once in my life, I don't see everything. I only see James Wilson. My friend James Wilson. I only see James Wilson's closed eyes and the dried blood around his mouth. I only see his brown hair that hangs limply on his head. I only see his still chest. I only see his angular face, haggard from disease, the shadows that lie in his hollow cheeks. I only see his ridiculous thinness.

I finally give up and embrace him for the first time, and the last time. My eyes feel warm and wet but I blink them away quickly. I can't cry. This is the Hunger Games. I can't cry just because James-

I can't even think the word.

I lift James, one arm under his knees and the other beneath his back. I cradle him in my arms as I stand, noticing how his skin isn't hot anymore, but very cold. He is very light from all of the weight he lost in the past few days, and is easy to carry.

Usually, the Capitol will send an aircraft to collect the bodies and take them away. But I know that James deserves better.

I carry him to the full river and, from my experience in living in District 4, build a sturdy raft. I lace it with flowers on the edges.

I am disrespecting the Capitol.

I lie James on the raft so he won't fall off and then cross his hands over his chest. I place the most beautiful water lily in his cold hands and smooth out his chestnut hair.

James isn't my friend. He's my brother.

When I see the sun shining its brightest, I push the raft away from the river bed and let it make its way down the river. I watch it and James's body until it is out of sight. When it is, I sit down at that very spot and wait for someone to come and kill me.

That night, I watch the sky to see the tributes who have died today in the Hunger Games. There are only two: The boy with glasses from District 5, and James Wilson from District 12. I stare at his picture in the sky, wondering why it had to be him.

I know why. I remember running through the woods earlier today and piecing together what he had been going to tell me.

The Game Makers knew that he was going to die. But they hadn't just known. They aren't idiots. They had it planned from the moment he became sick. They knew what he had, they knew how to treat it, they knew that it was serious, but they waited until it was too late to offer the medicine.

They knew that James was going to die. They wanted him to. Why?

I clench my fists as James's picture leaves the sky. Because they wanted a show. They wanted a good dramatic scene to teach the districts a lesson. That was all. There were no uprisings. No threats of angry districts. They just care too much about their show. More than they value human life.

And now James, my one and only friend in this cruel and evil world, is dead.

I bring my knees up to my chest. I rest my arms on my knees, place my head in my arms, and cry for the first time in my life.

* * *

Brownie points for anyone who listened to the music while reading!


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